


Anything but ordinary

by badwolf_doctor



Series: OTP: Nothin'll ever be easy as you and me [2]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Gen, and some worldbuilding, coyote!Cade is my favorite thing to write, just Rook and Sharky flirting badly, just a self-indulgent thing I may add more to later, shapeshifter AU, they're dumb and I love them, with some influences from GRIMM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 03:30:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16966860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolf_doctor/pseuds/badwolf_doctor
Summary: Hope County is a weird place; Sharky is about to find out exactly how weird is really is.Or, a supernatural creatures AU wherein Rook and Sharky flirt (badly) and discuss the truth about Hope County.





	Anything but ordinary

**Author's Note:**

> Been watching a lot of GRIMM recently which was part of the inspiration for this.

Cade Maza was far from normal by any sense of the word. Of course, the world wasn’t exactly **normal** either. It was full of monsters, and things that couldn’t be explained. At ten years old, his Gran had set him down and explained how the world really worked.  
“You’re going to start seeing things—terrible things, things that shouldn’t be possible. The best thing you can do is ignore them—don’t let yourself be drawn to them; if you out yourself you won’t survive long.” She paused, flashing him a toothy grin. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest surviving family member.” Death came for them all in the end, but for those like him that weren’t especially careful, it came all the sooner. His Gran had been the first family member in half a century that hadn’t died violently.  
And she’d been right, he had started seeing things—demons, ghosts, monsters; things that _were_ and were **not** human. He’d moved to middle of nowhere Montana to…well, hide to be perfectly honest. People in general had a tendency to be shitty and when confronted with proof of the unexplainable, they had a tendency to be even shittier. And other supernaturals were even worse where his kind were concerned. People like him were hunted and hated for a buncha bullshit reasons, and there were so few of them left now; Cade wasn’t going to be another dead before his time. No sir, he was either gonna live forever, or if he did die early it wasn’t gonna be for some ridiculous blood feud.  


The reason he’d chosen this place was because his Gran had spent some time here when she was young, she’d told him there were plenty of places left to run free without fear. Coming back from overseas, he’d needed those kinds of desolate places not just to run wild but to help get his head on straight. For a lot of folks, their time in the desert had taken something from them, gave them a place to lose themselves; brought out the worst in them and turned them into something unrecognizable. It had taken _plenty_ from Cade, make no mistake, but it had _given_ him something as well—the clarity to know exactly the kind of person he wanted to be and the kind of life he wanted to have. And what Cade wanted was a mostly normal life; a home, a stable job and maybe someone to share that life with.  
He’d run straight to Montana once he was stateside, intent on building that kind of life for himself; one where no one knew who or what he was. To his great surprise, he’d succeeded. At least he **thought** he had.  
He’d always suspected that Hope County might be full of the otherworldly; it was just a feeling, a nagging buzz in the back of his head. But, he hoped if he kept his head down, he could ignore it. Just hide away from it all the way he’d been told to do all his life. The thing was that he was **good** at hiding. He’d learned how to as a kid; it was how he’d survived into adulthood. That was rule one: hide what you are and don’t get drawn into situations involving other supernaturals, they’ll hate what you are and maybe even try to kill you. Those old world grudges had only strengthened over time.  


There were many names for what he was, but the term most often used was ‘shapeshifter’. Supposedly, in the old days his kind had acted like a kind of policing force, protecting other supernaturals from both humans and each other. Apparently, some of them had abused their power and it had earned the rest of them a bad reputation. In fact, most supernaturals had a _kill it before it kills me_ policy where shapeshifters were concerned.  
He should have listened more to his Gran’s warnings. She’d told him that it was inevitable that he’d be drawn to the otherworldly— _instinctual_ even and that the best thing he could do in response was to trust his own instincts about who to avoid and when to avoid shifting. In his defense, it had been so long since he’d been able to cut loose and run. And as much as he tried, he couldn’t stay cooped up forever; the wild part of him wanted to be free. How was he supposed to know that a quick run was going to end the way it did?

* * *

Sharky Boshaw had gone for a walk in the woods outside Fall’s End. It was what he always did when he felt the urge to set a fire in a less than conventional way. He was well known in the County as a pyromaniac; it was a fact that he was quite proud of. There was just something about the way fire jumped and danced; something strangely comforting and hypnotic, something that drew him to it. The thing most people didn’t know however was that sometimes he didn’t start fires with matches, lighters or even his trusty flamethrower. Sometimes, all it took was a touch, and sometimes just a thought. And that, he knew, wasn’t exactly what you could call _normal_ , even if it was normal for him.  
He did his best to hide it though, because the last thing he needed was for some Government suit types to swoop in, scoop him up and experiment on him or some shit. Which is why he was even out in the middle of nowhere to begin with. But as for what he was currently seeing, he had no explanation.  


Since the newest Sheriff’s deputy, more often called ‘Rook’ had come into his life; Sharky’d had an increasingly difficult time getting him off his mind. They’d just clicked despite _technically_ being on opposite sides of the law. It was like Rook had taken up residence in his brain and when Sharky wasn’t running around with him or thinking about him, he was _talking_ about him, and not always in a ‘ **my best friend is awesome** ’ kind of way. Although, Cade _was_ probably his best friend and he **was** in fact, awesome.  
He’d even started _dreaming_ about him (and definitely not in a best friend kind of way). Sure in (quite a lot of) those dreams, Rook was naked (he was too usually) but there was a difference between dreaming of something and being confronted with the reality of it. Especially because he was pretty sure before Rook had shown up in the middle of the woods naked, he’d been something…not human. Something with sharp teeth, claws and…fur. Weird. Nothing in his life had prepared him for this sort of thing, and he wasn’t sure how to react. Truthfully, he should probably be freaking out about what was going on, but honestly, who was he to judge what was normal and what wasn’t. Also…he _might_ have been a trifle distracted by the fact that Rook was completely naked. 

“Uh…hey Dep.” He could feel his face heat the longer he stared (and he was _definitely_ staring; couldn’t stop actually). How could he? His dreams hadn’t done Rook justice—dude was hot; no ifs, ands, or buts about it. And to think, he covered it all up with that ridiculous Deputy’s uniform…on second thought that was probably a good thing; Rook might be _too_ distracting otherwise.  
Sharky had spent most of his life thinking that he was the only _weird_ person in Hope County. Sure, there were plenty of more traditionally weird people in the county. Like the Seeds and their weird Church/cult. But now he was staring at evidence that there was at least one other person in Hope County that qualified as **his** kind of weird.

* * *

Cade had thought he was alone, which was probably his first mistake. He should have _known_ that it wasn’t safe to shift back this close to town. But he’d let himself believe it would be fine. And now he was standing in the middle of the forest naked, scant feet from the backpack with his clothes in it and oh, hey, Sharky was there because **of course** he was. The only surprising thing in all of this was that apparently, Sharky was something more than human. It probably _shouldn’t_ have been surprising given that Sharky was likely his closest friend here, which meant by the law of averages where people like Rook were concerned, he was something otherworldly. Out of everyone he’d met in Hope County, if you had told him that Sharky Boshaw would become the most important to him, he would have laughed in your face. Anyone could tell you that Sharky had a certain kind of charm, but he wasn’t the type of person people would bend over backwards to help—except for Rook, who would do just about anything for him.  


“Hey, Sharky.” Watching Sharky’s face turn seven shades of red was the highlight of the whole situation. Between Cade’s natural instinct to be naked (easier to shift that way) and the lack of privacy he’d had in the army, he had a loose concept of modesty and didn’t mind being naked in front of people. Sharky, on the other hand seemed to be having a difficult time with him being naked…or maybe it was the whole shapeshifter thing? Could be either. Either way, it was a little amusing to watch. 

“Kind of a weird question, but are you a werewolf?” Whatever Rook had been before was something distinctly canine in features. And since Sharky knew that people who started fires without any outside ignition source were real, was it too much to believe that werewolves existed as well? He didn’t think it was so far a leap. What else was he supposed to think?

Rook laughed. Of all the things he thought Sharky would say about seeing him shapeshift, he hadn’t imagined that. “Shapeshifter, not a werewolf.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Born, not bitten.” Rook replied. “I can shift whenever I want, not just when the moon’s out. Oh, and if we’re being technical, I’m a _coyote_ not a wolf.” He paused. “Actually, I’m not sure traditional werewolves exist. Then again, I’m not really an expert.” He was _kind_ of babbling. But he tended to do that when he was nervous. And he was, nervous that is. He wasn’t worried too much about Sharky _knowing_ what he was; he was more worried about how Sharky would **react** to that knowledge.

“Do you eat people? Does shifting hurt? Are you as fluffy and soft as you looked?” Sharky couldn’t keep the questions from pouring out; he was also having a hard time keeping his focus on Rook’s face and not anything lower. It wasn’t his fault the Deputy looked like he was chiseled out of marble or some shit.

“I’ve killed animals in the other form before—I tend to stay away from people and wouldn’t want to eat them anyway.” Rook replied, ticking off question on his fingers. “Sometimes shifting hurts if I try to shift too fast, or if I have too many layers on—hence the nudity currently. And as for that last one, I dunno. That’s not something I can really answer myself.”

“Cool, cool, cool. So, um…” Shit! He’d let his gaze drift down the Deputy’s chest and now he’d forgotten what he was going to say.

Rook knew that he should be having some kind of panic attack about being found out (and by another supernatural at that) but he couldn’t. His Gran would be rolling over in her grave if she could see him right now. The thing was, he trusted Sharky— _liked_ him even…probably more than he should actually.  
“I’m gonna put some clothes on now, if that’s okay with you.” Reaching for the backpack sitting against a nearby tree, he didn’t wait for a response before he started pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“I mean, if you gotta.” Sharky shrugged. “No complaints here about the view, po-po.”

Rook laughed again. “I think I gotta Shark, before things get awkward. But uh…I’ll keep that in mind.” It took a lot to make Rook blush under normal circumstances, but genuine compliments or interest did it every time. He just hoped that Sharky couldn’t see the blush spreading across his face. 

“So, you’re a shapeshifter. That’s pretty cool.” Sharky said, making conversation. He’d had to say something, anything to break the silence they’d fallen into. Besides, now was the perfect time to see if he could get any information from Rook about his own abilities. It couldn’t hurt, right?

* * *

Rook’d had the feeling from the beginning that Sharky didn’t know he was anything other than normal. Because he was far too comfortable with the idea of Rook being a shapeshifter than anyone else would be given the history between his kind and other supernaturals. As it stood, he wasn’t entirely sure what Sharky was either (other than his best friend and somebody he cared about immensely); he could see an aura around Sharky, like flames (not surprising) but he didn’t know what that meant. He’d spent more time as a kid trying to avoid what he was and what was out there than learning about it. Luckily, he’d kept everything his Gran had left him; boxes and boxes of old journals and notes from his ancestors. If there was information to be found, it would likely be there.

“So, what about you Sharky; what are you?” Subtle, Rook was not. But he was unconcerned; sometimes the best thing to do was just come out and ask. Beating around the bush was exhausting.

“Me? Nothin’. I mean, just a normal human here.” Sharky sounded a little unsure. “I mean, _sometimes_ I start fires without a flame source; I just think it or touch it and bam! Fire. That’s…not normal, is it?”

Rook shrugged. “Normal for most people, probably not. It just means you’re a little _more_ than human. As to what _exactly_ you are, I don’t know. But I know where to find out…I mean, if you want to know or trust me enough to be alone with me.” 

“Why wouldn’t I trust you? We’re friends, aren’t we?” Sharky’s expression was curious. 

“Of course we are.” Rook assured him. “It’s just…most supernaturals don’t react well to the whole shapeshifter thing.”

“Why not?”

“It’s complicated and dumb.” 

“Oh.” That didn’t actually tell him anything. But, he trusted Rook. “You’re not gonna kill me or anything, are you?” Better to just ask.

“No! Of course not.” Rook’s reply was adamant. 

“Okay then. I trust you. Besides,” Sharky said with a grin. “I’m curious what exactly you wanna show me Rook; I already saw you naked, what’s left to see?”

He watched all the tension in Rook’s shoulders evaporate in an instant, as the deputy laughed.

Finding out your best friend wasn’t going to run screaming for the hills because of something you had no control over was a **huge** relief. Maybe outing himself was a good thing. Keeping that part of himself a secret was the only way he knew to stay safe, but it was extremely lonely.  
“My Gran left me some books—information about other types of supernaturals that my family has encountered over the years. They’re back at my cabin.”

“Weird. You know, most people just record memories and dirty dreams in journals.” Sharky said.

“Oh those are in there too. But apparently, the otherworldly stuff was more important.” Rook replied, hefting the backpack onto his back. “You can come home with me, my car is back in Fall’s End, and we can dig those books out and see if we can find some information on you.”

Sharky couldn’t keep the teasing tone out of his voice. “Wow, I got to see you naked and _now_ you’re taking me home with you; kinda feels like we’re doing this out of order, Rook.”

The deputy scowled, but Sharky could see the barest hint of a smile on his face. 

“Keep it up Sharky, and then see if I bail you outta jail the next time Hudson, Pratt or the Sheriff toss you in there.” It was an empty threat, because the both of them knew that Cade _would_ in fact, bail him out. He was reliable like that.

“Alright, alright; I’ll leave you alone.” Sharky followed after Rook, who’d started heading back towards town. “So, you really think one of those books will have answers?”

Rook shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. But it seems like the best place to start.”  


They fell into a companionable silence as they trekked through the woods back towards Fall’s End. That was one of the things Rook like best about Sharky; he didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with him, the way he did with others. They could just _exist_ without having to make small talk.  
Cade’s jeep was right where he’d left it, not that he’d expected it to be anywhere else; the good thing about a close-knit community was that everyone knew which vehicles belonged to the deputies and therefore knew to leave them alone. 

 

Boomer was stretched out next to the jeep, tail wagging enthusiastically at Rook’s approach. Boomer **technically** belonged to Rae-Rae over at the pumpkin farm, but he went wherever he wanted, traversing the county with and without human accompaniment. Sometimes, the Sheriff’s department used him as their unofficial canine officer given how often he rode around with the deputies, it was only sensible. And he did a good job of running down suspects.  
Rook never had a dog growing up, but he’d always wanted one, so he was quite fond of Boomer and usually brought him snacks.  
“Hey buddy,” he reached out to scratch the dog behind the ears. “I don’t have anything for you today, sorry.”  
Satisfied with pets alone, Boomer headed off in the direction of the pumpkin farm.

* * *

On the way out to Cade’s house, Sharky was fidgety, even more so than normal. “What’s on your mind, Sharky?”

“I was just thinkin’ that in the entire time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen your house.”

Rook had a feeling that wasn’t what was _really_ bothering the other man, but he’d humor him. “That’s because I like my privacy, and now you know why.”

“Yeah, it’s cuz you’re runnin’ around naked all the time.”

Rook let out a short bark of laughter, watching Sharky relax just a bit. “Well you’re not wrong. So, what’s _really_ bothering you?”

“What if whatever I am is bad?” the words tumbled out in a rush.

“Sharky, no one single type of supernatural is good or bad, even if some people think that. They’re just like regular people—some are bad, some are good. It depends on their _character_. And you’ve got nothing to worry about because you’re pretty great, ok?” 

“Thanks Rook.” Sharky pulled his hat down to hide how red his face was. Why was it that he could flirt with Rook no problem, but the minute the deputy said anything even remotely complimentary, he panicked? 

“Just tellin’ it like it is.” Rook replied.

* * *

Rook’s house was a large cabin, nestled securely between the forest and large, open plains; the Whitetail mountains looming in the distance.  
“Damn po-po, this is your place?”

“Yep.” Rook nodded. “All mine.”

“Gotta admit, I’m a little jealous.” Sharky commented as he climbed out of the jeep and followed Rook to the house.

“Well, you’re welcome to come out here whenever you want.”

Sharky grinned. “Careful Dep, you may never get rid of me now.”

“Why would I ever want to get rid of you?” Rook glanced over his shoulder at Sharky with a fond smile as he unlocked the front door.

Rook’s house was sparsely decorated which wasn’t surprising considering how much time the Deputy spent other places. A large fireplace was in the living room, a TV hung over the fireplace and a worn-down couch sat in front of it. The kitchen was a good size, but it looked like Rook was remodeling it, cabinets were torn out and part of the countertop was gone. 

“Sorry for the mess,” The deputy said, following his gaze. “I uh…don't get a lot of time to work on it; work keeps me pretty busy.”

“No judgment Rook,” Sharky replied, waving it off. “You’ve seen _my_ place.”

Rook chuckled. “True.”

There were two doors in the back, one leading to a bathroom and the other to what looked like an office; just off the living room there was a staircase that led up to a loft.  
Sharky followed Rook into the office where the deputy went to a large footlocker, propped open the lid and handed Sharky a large, leather-bound book.

“Damn,” Sharky ran his hand along the spine of the book. “You weren’t kidding, these are **old**.”

“I know. Be easy with it, ok? I don’t need my Gran coming back to haunt me because I let one her books get damaged.” Rook sat down in a nearby chair, cracking open a book of his own. Sharky mirrored the action, sitting down in the remaining chair, and beginning to flip through the book Rook had given him.

“Hey, how did you know about me anyway?” 

“Oh,” Rook looked up at him. “Shapeshifters’ eyes when they’re shifted can see um…auras, I guess, that shows what people are even when they’re hiding. Yours looks like flames; it’s pretty cool looking actually.” Every aura was different, that was how they identified other supernaturals when they were hiding. Of course, if the supernatural came out and _showed_ themselves then anyone could see them; much like Sharky had done when he’d seen Rook shift earlier.

* * *

Things were quiet for a long time, until finally, Sharky found something. “Hey, I think I found it!”

Rook closed his own book, sliding his roll-around chair over to where Sharky was. Peering over the other man’s shoulder, Rook read, “ _Pyrokinetic—known for starting fires by thought or touch; auras like fire. Sounds like a fit.” Rook read a little farther, “October 10, 1871—Chicago. It took me three days to track the pyrokinetic that had set the blaze that burned half the city. They did not go quietly, nearly burning my companion and I alive before I took their head. I took no pleasure in the death. The pyrokinetic’s love of wanton destruction had driven it half-mad and as the only one of my kind in town, it fell to me to stop it. If I had not, it would have destroyed everyone and everything I hold dear. And I could not live with that, even if by killing it I outed myself. Let them come for me if they want, I will run no longer_. Damn.”

“Seconded.” Sharky said. That was quite a lot to take in.

“Well, now you’ve got a name to put to abilities.” Rook said.

“Yeah. I can’t believe I’ve been wanderin’ around for half my life thinkin’ I was the only weird one maybe in the whole world. And then here you come with your shapeshifting abilities and your trunk full of books and upended everything I thought I knew.” Sharky said. 

“I’ve always been the guy to fuck everything up for people.” Rook said.

Sharky frowned at Rook’s tone. He hadn’t meant it in a bad way. “Yeah, but in this case, it’s a good kind of fuck up. ‘Cause me knowin’ the truth of things can only be a good thing, right? ‘Sides, I don’t mind fuck-ups as long as it’s you doing the fucking…” Wow, those words really just came out of his mouth. Any time the earth wanted to open up and swallow him whole was fine with him. 

Rook had never seen anyone go red as quickly as Sharky at that moment and he couldn’t keep the grin off his face. Being around Sharky was easy, like he was always meant to be a part of his life. And trusting him with anything and everything was easy too. If Rook wasn’t really careful, he could fall for this ridiculous pyromaniac with no trouble at all. Especially when he said shit like that.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Sharky sputtered, back peddling as fast as he could. Except that he _did_ kind of mean it like that. He had literally never once in his life wanted to be fucked so badly by someone as he did Rook. Of course, coming out and just _saying_ that was probably a bad idea.

“You know, I _could_ tease you about that.” Rook’s voice sounded closer than it had been previously. “But I think I’ll give you a free pass, this time.”

Sharky didn’t look up at him, flipping through the book in his lap too quickly to actually be reading it. He just needed something to focus on to keep him from doing something stupid, like kissing Rook or some shit. The last thing he needed to do was to fuck up his closest friendship by trying to make it into something more.  
“So,” he cleared his throat. “You’re saying that all these things are real? Cambions, witches, sirens, all of them?”

“Essentially, yeah. I’m like 65% sure the Seeds are _something_ ; it’s the only way to explain why they have so many followers.” Rook replied.

“Makes sense.” Sharky agreed. “And most of them hate shapeshifters?”

“Yeah. There used to be a lot more shapeshifters in the world, but between humans killing them and in-fighting with other supernaturals, there’s only a small number left.” Cade explained. “That’s why my Gran always stressed hiding. Drilled it into my head that to let anyone know what I was would end in my death.”

“Damn. Guess that means you must really trust me.” Sharky’s tone was teasing.

“Yeah, I do. You’re one of my closest friends. And if someone had to find out, I’m glad it was you.” There was a seriousness to Rook’s voice that Sharky had never heard before. It dawned on him just how much Rook trusted him, it was one thing to say you trusted someone or to trust them with small thing, but another thing entirely to trust them (quite literally) with your life. And that’s what Rook was doing here.

“Don’t worry Dep. Your secret is safe with me.” He promised.

Rook’s smile was warm, and Sharky was once again reminded of how much better his life was with Rook in it.

“And yours is safe with me. It’s other people you have to worry about.”

“C’mon Rook, it’s not like I’m about to run streaking through the county setting everything on fire…at least not without my flamethrower.”

“Now there’s an image.” 

A thrill went through Sharky at Rook’s soft laughter. He’d seen Rook take down drunks twice his size like they were nothing, seen him stare down the barrel of a shotgun with no fear; Rook was honestly one of the most badass people he’d ever met. But whenever it was just the two of them, there was something soft about the Deputy; in the way he smiled, laughed, spoke, hell even _looked_ at Sharky. He didn’t know what sparked the change in Rook, but he’d never complain—he liked it too much.

 

Rook looked down at his watch with a sigh. “I gotta go change and head to work—I can drop you off in town on the way if you want.”

“That works for me, Dep.” Sharky closed the book and set it back in the still open trunk, watching Rook walk away with a small smile.  
Turns out, the world was even stranger than he’d thought. At least he knew now. And there was a part of him that was looking forward to finding out what else might be lurking in Hope County, provided it didn’t kill him first.


End file.
